Chapter 32: Chapter 32

“You two get inside, now.”

Talia jolted awake at the urgency in the man’s voice. Tucker was already moving her, pushing her to stand as he did. Still shaking off the remnants of sleep, Talia looked up to see Repo standing with his body halfway out the back door. The expression he wore gave nothing away, but his voice…That was a different story.

“What’s going on?” Tucker demanded. Without a second thought, he reached for her hand and dragged her along with him back into the house.

“Got a bead on Cruiz. Blake doesn’t want to wait around for them to find us.”

“Wait, a bead from where?”

“One of the prospects got a tip from one of the bunnies. Said she’s been fuckin’ a guy that hangs around the bars who claims he has an in and likes to run his mouth.”

Tucker grunted, not looking at all convinced. “We have time to chase it down?”

“Nope.”

“What does that mean for you?” Talia asked. As they reached the living room, Repo stepped out of the way, giving Talia her fist uninterrupted view of the rest of the house. All the men had gathered around the coffee table. On it was a pile of guns and ammunition. Enough to start a war, and that was exactly what they appeared to be getting ready to do.

“We’re taking the fight to them,” Tucker said gravely.

Releasing her hand, Tucker left Talia to join his brothers. They each chose a weapon, then loaded it up, checking clips and chambering rounds. A sick feeling settled in Talia’s stomach. She should report this. She needed to report this. But she couldn’t bring herself to rat him out. Her feet felt glued to the floor. She should have said something to Frank earlier when she’d spotted him hanging around the fringes of the Spartan compound. It’d have been a huge risk, and she didn’t know what she could have said, but something had to be better than nothing, right? But he was somewhere close by, she hoped, so it wasn’t too late. Maybe she could get word to him—

“It’s terrifying, isn’t it.” Gabby suddenly stood beside her, arms wrapped around herself as if warding off a chill. The evening was warm, balmy even, but Talia knew the feeling.

“I keep pinching myself, hoping I’ll wake up and find that this has all be one big, fucked up dream,” Gabby continued. “It’s my fault this is happening. Blake says it isn’t, but we both know it is. I brought Ricky Cruiz into our lives.”

“Who is this Ricky Cruiz?” Talia questioned. Up until now, no one had bothered to tell her a thing, but Gabby was so distraught, Talia could sense she was a fount of information just waiting to be tapped.

Haunted eyes found hers. “He’s a monster. Gave me these,” she said, tugging down the collar of her shirt to reveal angry red slashes, some flat, some puckered in places. They were healed, but Talia recognized they were fresh. She withheld a gasp, years of training helping her bury the emotions whirling inside of her.

“He tortured you?” she asked, appalled.

Gabby made a wounded sound, almost like she was choking. “I got off easy. Being on the wrong side of his blade was nothing compared to what could have happened to me. It was a mercy compared to what all those other women must be going through.”

Every hair on Talia’s body stood on end. Turning bodily to face her, Talia felt as if she were standing on a cliff’s edge, the information she’d been seeking so close she could practically feel it on her fingertips. “What women, Gabby? Gabby? What women,” she repeated, almost frantic when she didn’t answer fast enough.

Gabby’s gaze remained focused on the activity going on in front of them. “He takes them, sells them. I’m not sure what happens to them from there, but it can’t be good.”

“You’re talking about human trafficking?” Talia questioned, needing to be absolutely certain she was getting this right. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.

Gabby’s expression grim, she nodded. Further words weren’t required. They both understood the gravity of the situation. Those poor women.

Swallowing tightly, Talia watched the men gear up. Efficient, lethal, it was clear they knew what they were doing. Especially Tucker. His expression stark, he looked ready for anything. She feared for all of them.

This was two biker clubs going toe-to-toe with lethal weapons. Both sides were out for blood. This wasn’t play yard fun. This was a gang war. She’d seen the kinds of brutality gangs could inflict on not only a community but each other.

If the Spartans were going up against this Cruiz character and his gang, there was going to be bloodshed. There would be casualties. From both sides.

A giant, gaping pit opened up in Talia’s stomach as she continued watching Tucker prepare himself.

He could die. If he left tonight, he might not come back.

She couldn’t allow that to happen. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she stood by and watched them leave.

Without a second thought, Talia crossed the room and inserted herself into the middle of the group, much to their chagrin. She didn’t care. She’d do what she had to do, to hell with their rules. She was used to playing alongside the big boys. Now, they were going to have to get used to playing alongside her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tucker spoke up when she selected a Glock and a clip and punched them together. His brothers got busy tucking their own weapons into the back of their pants and into holsters located on their shoulders and ankles. If she didn’t already know they were bikers, she’d have thought them professionals, FBI even, they were that accustomed.

“I’m coming with you,” she informed him, careful to keep her tone level, controlled.

Didn’t matter. Tucker wasn’t hearing any of it. Taking the gun away from her, he tucked it into one of the holsters under his arm. “No, you’re not, sugar.”

Talia fixed him with a look that she used often on men in the department who made the mistake of thinking less of her just because she wasn’t packing the right parts between her legs. “If you give me that ‘stay put’ bullshit, I will personally introduce your balls to my foot. I’m coming.”

The bastard actually laughed. His brothers followed right along, showing their solidarity. “I appreciate you wanting to help, but no way are you going. This isn’t a fight for women.”

And that’s where he’d be wrong. “Don’t play the man card,” she warned him. “I am more capable than you know. Probably more than all of you combined.” Her finger circled the room, not including Tucker, because she knew with his background he could more than handle himself.

“Yeah?” he challenged. “How much do you know about guns? Besides knowing where the bullets go?” he added when she pointed to the table to remind him what she’d just done.

She smirked. How cute. The man actually wanted to pull rank, as if he somehow outranked her because of his history in the military. “Like I said, more than you know.”

He gave her a placating smile that lit the fire of a thousand suns beneath her, but she was powerless to fight against it. “Guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.” Grabbing her hips, Tucker pecked her lips and stepped away so fast she didn’t have time to gut-punch him. Dammit. “You’re staying here. That’s final.”

Talia grit her teeth, her fists balling in preparation for what, she didn’t know, but she was furious. Tucker turned away to finish getting ready, and Talia, not thinking straight, stepped forward. She was fairly certain she was going to do something drastic when Blake stepped up, his stern voice stopping her.

“Actually, you’re both staying behind.”

Pausing, Tucker glanced over his shoulder, a disbelieving smile already in place. “What was that, Prez?”

“I said I want you here. The rest of us can do this without you.”

“Excuse me?” Dropping a magazine belonging to the .45 tucked under his right arm, Tucker turned around and leveled Blake with a hard stare that was definitely meant to intimidate. “I must need to clean my ears because I could have sworn you just grounded me.”

At least Blake looked apologetic about it. Not that it helped smooth over his delivery any. “I did.”

“What the actual fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Not even a little bit, bro.”

“Man, you know I’m the biggest asset you’ve got. You sidelinin’ me isn’t smart, and you know it.”

Watching the exchange closely, Talia bit her tongue. This wasn’t her fight.

“Maybe not, but I need you here. When it comes to keeping my family safe, you’re the best choice. If it means we lose out there,” he pointed toward the exterior wall, “then so be it. Gabby and my kids are my priority.”

Whatever argument Tucker had been preparing to issue, died before it left it lips. Even Talia was at a loss for words. Part of her wanted to be childish and point and laugh at the justice that had just been dealt—that’ll teach ya to tell me to stay home!—but the gravity of the situation didn’t allow for it. Instead, she’d have to celebrate the personal victory internally.

Tucker’s jaw clenched, and so did his fists as he digested this information. Having a boss to answer to herself, she understood the frustration, the feeling of impotence when all you wanted to do was get out there and do the job you’d been trained for. She felt for him, she really did. He was a soldier without a target, a man watching his friends go off to “war” as he’d called it and leaving him behind.

It had to be tough, but secretly, she was glad he was staying behind with her. It might be selfish, and it might even be unfounded, but she wanted to keep him close, protected. Knowing for certain that Tucker and the rest of the Spartans weren’t to blame for the missing women, she was doubly determined to make sure that the night went in their favor. With that in mind, she knew what had to be done.

Clearing her throat, Talia excused herself from the room and hid in the bathroom. Taking the cell phone she kept tucked in her pocket at all times, she pushed the preprogrammed button and waited for the call to connect. When it did, she said, “It’s me. I’ve got some information you’re going to want to hear.”

***

All was not hunky-dory in the Mahone household. Once the other men rode out, leaving Talia and the rest of them to hold down the fort, Tucker withdrew into himself. He wasn’t disconnected, at least not from his duties, but he hadn’t spoken a single word to her.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow blaming her for being forced to stay behind. Even though it irritated her, she refused to let it go beyond that. As far as she was concerned, Blake had done her a favor. Now, not only did she know for certain that Tucker wasn’t the bad guy, but she was also afforded the opportunity to keep a watchful eye on him.

While she might be a strong and independent woman, Talia was also a woman who wanted the people she cared about close by her side. Right now, only one person fit that bill, and he was standing with his back to her, planted in front of the large window that overlooked the front lawn, peeking through a split in the curtains.

Deep into a game of solitaire, Talia let him be. The last thing she wanted to do was break his concentration or get heavy into talks when they needed to remain focused on the possibility of trouble finding them.

After all, she had made that call earlier. If her calculations were correct, and her intel was followed, the so-called war should be over before it began. She wasn’t sure where that put the Spartans, whether they’d be pulled for questioning or not. What she did know was that, regardless of how it went down tonight, there would be no blood shed. That was her one and only concern. Everything else, the possible problem building between her and Tucker, his anger over the situation, could be dealt with later.

“And…I win again,” Talia said aloud, mostly to herself, although she pretended that Tucker was listening, if only for the sake of having someone to talk to. The silence was deafening.

Gabby had gone off to bed more than an hour ago, although, considering how distraught she’d been at the time, Talia doubted highly that she’d actually gone to sleep.

The woman was so high-strung, she’d bet she was back there pacing the floors. If put in her shoes, Talia knew she’d be doing the same. No woman with a heart would be able to rest easy knowing the man they loved was out risking life and limb until they could see for themselves that they were okay.

And then there was little Ash. The kid was a champ. He’d barely made a peep throughout the whole ordeal. Blake had simply told him goodnight and given him a kiss on the forehead, then said “Off to bed with ya. See you in the morning.” Ash replied with an, “I’ll tell the angels to keep you safe tonight,” and then he’d bounced off.

Talia had watched and wondered at the dynamics of such a family, but then she wasn’t an insider. She was keenly aware that her time there was merely surface and limited. She hadn’t had the chance to get to the meat of it all, and she never would.

It struck her then, as she stared off down the darkened hallway, that she was going to miss the little life she’d been building. Even if it was a false one. That didn’t make it any less real to her, though. She’d made a friend in Gabby. She’d enjoyed her interactions with Ash and his father. The family dinner had been refreshingly normal. And don’t even get her started on Tucker.

She couldn’t even look at him without wondering what her life would look like once she was through here. Stark, she imagined, just like it always was. Normal. Routine. She’d push some paperwork for a couple weeks, get assigned to another case, maybe infiltrate some group somewhere, and start all over again. But it wouldn’t be the same. She wouldn’t feel the same about the people she’d get to know as she did with the merry band of Spartans. They weren’t the usual backbiting bunch of sharks that would eat their own young if they thought their throne was in danger that she was used to. They were family. Functional in their dysfunction, caring, loving…family.

That was one thing Talia missed most about moving away from home. Not that her parents were anything to write home about. They had their flaws. They were more wrapped up in each other than in her—their only daughter. They’d always been that way, as far back as she could remember. They loved each other fiercely, almost as much as they loved their wealth. She and her brothers were just a novelty, people they could throw on the front of a Christmas card to send to all their friends and coworkers. While they did love their children, there was a kind of disconnect there, one that made it easy for Talia to break away from and not feel as if she’d abandoned them. In reality, she had always been the one who felt abandoned.

Maybe that’s why she chose to marry Brock. Now, she could look back and see the signs her younger self had been blind to for what they were: controlling, jealousy, lies. Brock had presented all those things and more, typical of an abuser who used their words in place of their fists.

The sad thing was, she’d allowed him to get inside her head, make her feel as if she was doing something wrong. She’d worked hard to please him, doing anything and everything to make sure his needs were met, even at the expense of her own happiness.

By some miracle, however, Talia had never allowed him to browbeat her into leaving her job. Some part of her, buried deep down, must have known that if she did that, she would lose the last tie to her identity she had left, and that just wasn’t acceptable. Before the ink had dried on the divorce papers, Talia found out about the need for an agent out west, and she’d volunteered without a second thought.

It was the perfect way to kill two birds with one stone: put some distance between her and Brock, and start her life fresh.

Gathering the cards and tapping them back into a neat stack, Talia let her gaze wander to where Tucker stood guard and couldn’t help making comparisons between him and her ex-husband. For one, he was damn good looking. Tall, fair-haired, and a total badass. Not the kind of badass that just thinks he’s one, but the kind that actually played the part. He took without apology, lived without censor, and respected everyone who crossed his path like a good southern gentleman should.

As far as she was concerned, Tucker was the perfect man. At least for her. She couldn’t speak for the rest of womankind, but judging by the reactions he got from them, she didn’t think she’d be wrong if she did. There was just something about Tucker Abrams that brought out the primal instincts in women. But she wasn’t complaining. Every time she looked at him, she had the urge to seek out a dark, secluded place and jump his bones.

Probably should have taken him up on the offer earlier. Just thinking about being pressed up against all that sexy was getting her hot and bothered.

To shake off the problematic thoughts, she tried to strike up a good old-fashioned conversation instead.

“So solitaire is only entertaining for about three rounds.” Nothing. Smacking the deck down on the table, Talia pushed to her feet and lifted her arms into the air, leaning to one side and then the other to stretch her back. “You feel like any food or something to drink?”

“Beer would be good, but gotta keep a clear head.”

Talia grunted her agreement. It would be nice to get a little buzz going, relax the body and the mind. “Adulting is hard sometimes.”

“Yeah.”

Sticking her head in the fridge, Talia stared at the contents without really seeing anything, then closed it again. Then she went to the sink and filled a glass with tap water.

“Everything quiet out there?” All hell hadn’t broken loose, so she imagined it was. But it was something to hopefully get him talking again.

“Mmm.”

“You’ve been standing there for over an hour,” she pointed out. “Want me to take over for a bit so you can rest your feet?”

“I’m good.”

Solid as a rock she’d bet. Over the course of the last hour, she’d watched him, unable to help making comparisons to the men and women she’d trained with. She could clearly imagine him as a solider. He was just so intense, so focused. She doubted anything could get past him.

Thinking back to when he’d first told her about being in Special Operations, Talia decided to throw a question at him and see if it stuck. “So you said you were in SF?”

At first, she didn’t think he’d heard her, he was so quiet and still. Then the words carried across the room, almost ethereal…because if she didn’t know his voice, she’d assume that his continued motionlessness meant it’d come from someone or something else.

“Yep. Joined the Army straight out of high school and worked my way up.”

Christ, he’d been so young. That he’d even made it that far was astonishing. She’d only ever heard stories of those guys. They were a special breed, a cut above the rest. She didn’t know much about them, but what she did know was that they were smart, received extensive training and education, including learning different languages, and performed some highly dangerous missions. She’d bet he’d seen some stuff. Nightmare inducing stuff. Special Forces were the guys that went behind enemy lines to offer aid to the citizens—humanitarian type stuff. No wonder he was so gentle beneath all that hard exterior.

“What made you leave?”

“Everything has an expiration,” he said cryptically.

Oh-kay. She could practically feel the door slam shut on that line of questioning, so Talia moved on. “Well, you’ve certainly kept in good shape.”

His only response was a lackluster grunt.

“Aren’t most of those guy supposed to be married, have a couple of kids? I thought I heard that somewhere.”

“Guess I’m the exception to the rule,” he drawled.

Getting any kind of information, big or small, from the man was like pulling teeth. He wasn’t giving her much to work with here. Before she could tease anything else from him, Tucker pulled out his phone and answered it.

Huh. She hadn’t even heard it ring. Guess he’d had it on vibrate.

Leaning down over the back of the couch, Talia tried to listen in on the one-sided conversation. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t learn anything worth writing home about.

Until Tucker turned and leveled her with a dark look that sent chills down her spine.

Perhaps she’d thought too soon. Stiffening, Talia slowly drew herself upright, bracing for whatever hell storm was about to come her way. The news could be about Cruiz and his gang, but her intuition was telling her that whatever the person on the other end of that line was telling him, it had everything to do with her.

Maybe it was just her guilty conscience, but she didn’t think so. That look was way too personal.

“Uh huh. Yeah, strange,” Tucker muttered, his gaze laser-focused on her. “Yeah, we’ll be here. Hang tight.” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he ended the call and returned the phone to his back pocket.

Talia’s heart thudded painfully in her chest, as if it were psychic and already knew the danger heading her way.

“That was Repo,” Tucker said, his voice low and edgy. He took a slow step forward, followed by another. Another. “Seems Cruiz was a no-show. But guess who was.”

She swallowed. Spread her hands out, palms up. “No idea.”

“The cops. Feds, too. Have anything you want to tell me, sugar?”

Crap. This was not good. This was so not good. Somehow, she just knew that Tucker had her pegged. She wasn’t sure how, but he knew. Still, she needed to buy some time. “Not that I can think of,” she said, playing the dumb card. The percentage of success was low, but she was grasping at straws here.

“No?” he asked, closing the distance between them faster than she’d like. He maneuvered around the couch. Talia managed to stay rooted in place, through fear or bravery or just plain stupidity, she wasn’t sure. “Not even about that little phone call you made in the bathroom earlier?”

Talia felt her eyes widen, the shock damn near stopping her heart. What was he going to do to her?

“You were taking a while in there, so I came to find you. Overheard you talking to someone, and it was clear that you were trying not to be heard.” He patted his jeans pocket where the phone was. “Didn’t take much to put two and two together.”

Confession time. Maybe if she explained herself, it would be enough. Enough for what, she didn’t know yet, but hopefully she’d still be breathing come sunrise.

“Tuck, I can explain—”

That’s when everything went sideways.

Glass shattered. Explosions ripped through the air, piercing her ears. Talia’s vision seemed to slow as she took stock of the situation. Tufts of material bursting from the furniture. Wood splintering. Lamps collapsing. Tucker’s mouth moving as he lunged for her. Yelling. He was yelling at her. She couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Then, like she’d been sucked into a vacuum in the middle of a hurricane, Talia caught Tucker’s voice as they crashed together onto the floor behind the couch.

“Stay down!”

It was then she heard the whiz of bullets. The crack of gunshots outside. Rapid fire. They were using automatics.

“Gabby! Ash!” Fear shot through Talia faster and harder than any bullet for the pair they’d been trusted to protect.

Using all his weight against her, Tucker flattened Talia to the floor, holding her in place when she would have run. “Not now!”

“What if they’re hurt?” she cried.

“You can’t help them if you’re dead!”

So logical. So cool in a situation that was anything but. Calling upon all her training, Talia pulled herself together, breathing deep and praying for calm.

It seemed to last forever, the barrage of gunfire, but eventually, it grew quiet again. It was the epicenter of the storm, Talia thought. Soon, they’d be bracing for round two.

“Are you okay?” Tucker’s hands ran over her face, her shoulders. He scrambled back onto his knees, looking her over everywhere for injury. “Are you hurt?”

Talia did a quick mental review of her body. All her fingers and toes were still there. No aches or pains aside from the one in her left butt cheek where she’d taken the brunt of the fall. “I’m okay. I’m good,” she assured him. Her gaze raked over him. “What about you?”

“I’m good,” he said automatically. Gun already in-hand, Tucker jumped to his feet and held out his hand. “Let’s go. It’s not safe here.”

That was the understatement of the century. Taking his hand, Talia let Tucker pull her up and together they raced through the house, making a beeline for the bedrooms. Their top priority was locating Gabby and Ash and getting them the hell out of there. Assuming they were still of this world.

Please let them be okay, Talia prayed.

Every inch of wall space between the front of the house and the back was riddled through with bullet holes. Most disturbing was their size. Some were standard, others were easily as big as of her fist. Obviously, these guys came loaded for bear, and they didn’t intend to leave anyone alive.

This was much more than just a human trafficking case. These people meant business. Who the hell were they dealing with exactly?

With no time to stand around and ponder it, Talia followed close behind Tucker. Throwing open the first door they reached, he ran inside. Talia was slower to follow, pulling out her standard issue gun that she’d brought as a precaution when he’d gotten the first phone call at her apartment. It’d been a risk, but she was glad she’d taken it.

Releasing the safety, Talia loaded one in the chamber and proceeded with caution. Inside the room decorated in motorcycles and dinosaurs, she found Tucker. He was knelt down on the opposite side of the twin-size bed making reassuring noises.

For a moment, Talia couldn’t catch her breath, her mind conjuring up the worst. Then Tucker lifted a crying Ash into his arms and a red-faced Gabby rose to follow. Talia’s quick assessment revealed both to be unharmed. Thank God.

Acting on her feet, Talia waved her arm, ushering them over. “We need to move fast. There’s no telling when—”

The wall behind Talia ripped open violently. The force lifted Talia’s feet out from under her and, powerless to slow her momentum, she was jettisoned across the room. The last thing she remembered was impacting the wall, and then it was lights out, Gracie.